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the toxin.
    Despite the fast-disappearing ugly rash, she was lovely, something he did his best to ignore, telling himself this wasn’t about his attraction to her. She had beautiful, smooth breasts, nipples peaked slightly. Her gently curved stomach had a sweet, dipped navel, her pubic hair was trimmed and the edges shaved neatly. Her fiery natural color blazed like an invitation.
    Not now . However much he told himself that, it didn’t stop him desiring her.
    He stripped, not bothering with fastenings, slicing off his clothes and face mask with an extended claw. They fell away like extraneous peel, unwanted and unnecessary. He kicked them into the corner of the shower, where they soaked up the bloody water.
    When the water at last ran clearer, he breathed again. If she’d ingested the substance, it could have been worse. Jesus fucking Christ, who had done this?
    After turning off the water, he wrapped her in a warm towel and lifted her from the shower. Now he could reach the bath, operated from a panel set in the tiles above the large corner tub. He set the temperature slightly higher than usual, mindful of her immediate need to keep warm to counteract possible shock.
    Every second seemed like forever, and as soon as he had six inches of hot water, he climbed into the tub, helping her in after. Sitting, he drew her back against him between his spread legs. “Ignore that,” he said when his erection pressed against her, and she shifted.
    He found the position uncomfortable, but he’d become accustomed to that kind of discomfort a long time ago. She came first. The last thing she needed was his cock. Even as the thought crossed his mind, his wayward shaft twitched, proving his control wasn’t as supreme as he’d believed it.
    He had to concentrate on her, the woman he’d hurt, however inadvertently.
    After finding the porcelain jug he kept by the bath, he sank it in the water and poured a stream over her abused skin. He emptied more over her, then reached for the soap. It had a natural anesthetic; it would help her recover. She’d be exhausted by the time these wounds healed. Her vampire state meant she would heal fast, but at sunrise her mortal nature would return, so he had to get her well by then.
    The places where the rash had attacked her most viciously were still open but closing rapidly. First he had to clean the wounds and ensure she wouldn’t scar and nothing would interfere with the healing process.
    After flooding the area again, he passed the soap between his hands, working up a lather. She’d bent forward as if avoiding his attention, making a small bundle of herself. When he touched her back, her body shivered, one quiver of flesh, but she gave no other sign of accepting or rejecting his touch.
    Some Talents took nudity for granted. Shape-shifters tended to accept it as a mundane occurrence, but for a vampire to get naked with another, it meant closeness, a measure of trust. He did his best to ignore the implications.
    When he contacted her mind, he read the shards of shock. Not serious, but there. He needed to help, so he let her know he’d entered her mind.
    She responded by embracing him with warmth, so much that his cock threatened to swell to bursting. More than warmth—desire. Need.
    He withdrew. “You can’t. Please, let me help you.” Feeling weak as her, he reached out, this time with his hands, and continued his self-appointed task. “I’m sorry. I usually double-check for silver when I know I’m coming into contact with Talents, but tonight I didn’t. It was my neckcloth.” Impossible to discover who’d tampered with it. He sent his clothes to a laundry service, so any number of people had contact with it. But he’d find out. Maybe someone hadn’t realized he wasn’t allergic to silver. Lucky break for him but not for her. Now that the immediate crisis had gone, he sent a mental message to his assistant to detain Blue, or at least have him tracked if he left the